Yulia, Kharkiv/Kremenchug

I packed some things a few days before, and after the performance with with a long pseudo-historical speech of a madman who had finally gone off the rails, everything became clear. It was a shock, it was a declaration of war to the entire Ukrainian people. My husband refueled at night, we withdrew money, but on the 24th we did not dare to leave with the first wave of escapees from the war. We woke up from the explosions at 5 a.m., surreal messages in the tape: Putin declared war, called special operations, explosions in 17 (!) regions almost simultaneously. Shock and horror. And a new perverted reality.

From the very first day Kharkiv became one of the main targets. We were hiding in the bomb shelter is in the next house, but with an active and nervous child it is very difficult. A maximum of 4 hours, it was not enough for more. I had to hiding in an apartment in a corner of the corridor. We live not far from the airport, in the past, beautiful (as it turned out), peaceful life, I loved to watch the planes land and take off. But now, if the airport was shot at, our house could have been damaged. In general, after four days of life under the explosions, the noise of airplanes and “grads” (we learned to distinguish
the sounds of guns), we decided to go to nowhere.

Now we are in the neighboring Poltava region, where it is relatively quiet (for how long?), but the fear of the local population and the PTSD of numerous visitors is felt. We didn’t want to go far, as if the house holds, the soul hurts for the city. So I want to believe that we will be back soon. But the days are flying by, and the end is still unknown, even though we admire our army and how the entire Ukrainian people are fighting the invaders. For a number of reasons, I can’t go abroad: I have a difficult child, and I can’t cope with him alone, and I don’t want to part with my husband and dog at all.

More than 20 days there was no connection with my cousin and aunt who live in Mariupol and where the “liberators” staged a humanitarian catastrophe and hell. I didn’t know if they were alive. Fortunately, the other day they managed to leave, and they finally got in touch. Since the first day of the war, I have not been able to communicate with my parents, who are in my hometown of Kramatorsk. Their brains are completely mutilated by Russian propaganda, they do not understand that there are no Nazis and fascists here, and that fascists are their beloved Rosarmiya. My mom came from the Novgorod region, I myself am Russian-speaking and raised with respect to Russian culture (now I regret it because I don’t I want to have nothing to do with either this culture or the country), but now I am overwhelmed only with hatred and anger towards the Putin regime, the people who supported it and support it, to those who did not prevent this hell